Harry Potter and The Crack Fiters
by Earedien1
Summary: Voldie has a plan to take over the world (as usual). Ch 5 is up! It really is an improvement over the first 4...so if you read this, don't lose heart around the beginning. It will get better!
1. Chapter 1: Randomness

"You...you suck, Malfoy!" Ron screamed across the hall, his face turning beet red. Whether it was from the yelling or the shame of not being able to come up with a decent insult, no one watching knew.

"Oh? Do I?" inquired the blonde Slytherin, feigning confusion. "It couldn't POSSIBLY be because I skinned your owl and fed it to Goyle, now, could it?"

Ron's lower lip trembled. "You meanie-head! That was my only possession worth over two knuts!" He burst into tears and ran howling down the hall. He was on the staircase when it moved, and of course being a Weasley he didn't notice. He was jostled sideways, rolled back down, and fell on top of Cho Chang.

"YOU POOPY-FACE! YOU MADE ME BREAK A NAIL!" Cho shrieked from the floor. "EW! You're Harry's friend, aren't you? Well, you can tell him that since his BEST FRIEND had the nerve to BREAK MY NAIL I won't go out with him any more. Even though I never was. HMPH!" She got up and made to flounce off but tripped over Ron's feet and got a concussion and fell into Harry's arms. Then she died.

Harry was watching when Ron tumbled down the staircase. He heard everything that Cho said to Ron, as he was standing twenty six and a half inches behind her. "YOU STUPID...PERSON, RON!" he screeched, dropping Cho. She fell to the floor with a satisfyingly loud thud. "CHO'S DEAD NOW BECAUSE OF YOU! ON TOP OF EVERYONE THINKING I'M MAD, THOUGH IT CAN'T BE BECAUSE OF MY CONSTANT SCREAMING, MY GODFATHER DYING, THOUGH IT COMPLETELY WASN'T MY FAULT THAT I SUCK AT OCULO-...OCCLUD-...OCTOPUS-...THAT THING SNAPE WAS SUPPOSED TO TEACH ME! NOW I HAVE TO MOURN FOR THE LOSS OF THE LOVE OF MY LIFE, WHO NEVER LIKED ME, BUT IT COULDN'T BE BECAUSE OF MY MADNESS, BECAUSE I'M NOT MAD, NOR MY LOOKS, BECAUSE I'M AS PRETTY AS A COCKROACH ON LSD! OH THE ANGST! OH WOE IS ME! WHAT SHALL I DO?!?!?!" He sank sobbing to his knees, theatrically contorting his face in agony and pulling his hair. Quite a bit came out.

"Well, you don't have to yell," Ron said.

Harry began screaming again and hit him on the head. "OF COURSE I HAVE TO YELL! WHAT DO YOU THINK I AM SUPPOSED TO DO, YOU BLOODY STUPID BLOODY STUPID BLOODY STUPID BLOODY STUPID, STUPID, STUPID, STUPID, STUPID GIT!"

Ron began to count on his fingers. "Why did you say 'Bloody Stupid' four times and then 'Stupid' four times? And then git. Once."

"BECAUSE YOU'RE A BLOODY STUPID-"

"Shut up, Pothead," Draco said, smirking evilly.

"OH NO! IT'S THE MEANIE-HEAD!" Ron began to cry.

"Oh noooooo, it's the meanie-head, mommy!" Draco mocked. "Ha, ha, ha!"

"Shut up," Ron sniffled.

"WHAT ABOUT CHO?!" Harry said, butting into their conversation.

"What about who?" Draco asked. "CHO!" Harry shouted. "Oh, you mean this ugly lump on the floor here?" Draco kicked her corpse.

"NO!" Harry screamed, and began to hit Draco's head ferociously.

"Owwwww Potter you lummox, stop that!" Draco yelled, kicking him hard in a very special place. Harry doubled over, wheezing in pain. Everyone gawked at Harry, except Harry, who was a bit preoccupied twitching and convulsing on the floor at Draco's feet. "Hmmm," commented Draco. "I don't see why people bother with the Cruciatus Curse. A swift groin kick is much more effective." To demonstrate this again, he dealt another kick to Harry's privates. This time, Harry gave a loud squawk and fainted.

Hermione rushed to her friend's side. "You KILLED him!" She exclaimed.

Draco dropped a book on Harry's face. Harry stirred. "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" Hermione wailed. "He's ALIVE! Why does he have to be alive? It's not fair!!!!!!"

"I appreciate your... oof... concern," Harry winced. "You're welcome, Harry," Hermione said, as she is actually too stupid to know what sarcasm is. Harry didn't bother correcting her. In Harry's mind, the world was one big picture drawn by a two year old, and everyone was a scribbly...something-or- another. Hermione was a big monkey. Sometimes Harry liked to think about Hermione the monkey and laugh. Then those other guys in his bedroom would tell him to shut up because it was so late at night and why was he waking them up, you think you're so special because you didn't die that one time, you're really a stupid loser though, I mean, come on, Cho? Go to sleep, you baby. Sometimes Harry cries.

Like now.

"WAAAAHHHHHH! I WANT MY MOMMY! WAIT!! NOOOOOOO!!! MY MOMMY'S DEAD!!!!!! MY GODFATHER IS DEAD TOO AND I NEVER GOT BACK MY FAVORITE BATMAN UNDIES THAT I LET HIM BORROW AND NOW TELETUBBIES WILL TAKE OVER THE WORLD AND MUTANT BOOMBOXES WILL FORCE US TO LISTEN TO BRITNEY SPEARS AND WE'LL BE EATEN BY RABID MINNOWS AND THEN-" Harry passed out suddenly in the middle of his senseless ranting.

That's what happens when you forget to breathe.

He was dragged to the hospital wing by his eyelids.

* * *

A/N: Yeah, that whole chapter was senseless...but it will get better! Please R and R, as this is my first fic/spoof ever and I want to know how it is. Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2: Glimpses at a plot!

Harry saw the ghost of Sirius floating in front of him. Hmm, he thought. I must be dreaming. Then he noticed Sirius was wearing a speedo. Nightmare, then.

"You're not bloody dreaming, moron!" the ghost bellowed. Harry was taken aback. Had he voiced his thoughts aloud?

"Yes! And you just did so again!!!! Why do I have to have an idiot for a godson? Why couldn't I get Goyle or something? I was having a grand time in Dead!Tahiti when suddenly a message comes in telling me that you-"

"Sirius," Harry butted in. "You-"

"Passed out from forgetting to breathe, so I get chucked out of the dead world and now get the glorious responsibility of lecturing you to make sure you don't KILL YOURSELF out of stupidity! It's my job to teach you to bloody BREATHE on your own! What sixteen-year-old needs to be told to do that?!?!?! Do you have any idea what this has cost me?! You just RUINED my chances with Narcisssa Malfoy! Stupid bastard. Like father, like son."

"Erm, Sirius?" Harry said tentatively. "You look REALLY fat in that speedo." Sirius hit him over the head with a toaster. Harry wondered where he'd gotten the toaster. Then he passed out. Again.

"Dammit," Sirius growled when he realized he had not told Harry the second reason why he had come. "Well, I'm not waiting for the bloody little git to wake up. I'll just leave him a note." Sirius took out a pen and scribbled "ur hair makes u a crack fiter!" on Harry's head. "Oh Narcissa!" Sirius called out, as he drifted back into the world of the veil.

* * *

Harry stirred in his hospital bed. His head was throbbing. It felt like someone had whacked him over the head with a toaster. Then he remembered. Sirius had indeed hit him with a toaster. It was a nice 4-slice one too. Harry wondered why that happened. I mean, come on, he was the hero of the wizarding world! No one hits heroes with toasters. Not even expensive 4- slice toasters, no matter how shiny they are.

"Well, Potter, delighted as I am to hear that shiny toasters amuse you, could you stop babbling and OPEN YOUR EYES!?!?!" Crap. He had said his thoughts out loud AGAIN. Harry slowly opened his eyes. The first person he saw was Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked like an old wrinkly fish. Harry hated fish. So, he punched it in the nose.

"MOMMY!" Dumbledore sobbed. "He called me a fish! And he punched me in the nose and it's bleeding and it HURTS! Waaaahhhhhh!"

Madame Pomfrey bustled over, because that's what she does best. That, and shoving chocolate down people's throats, whether they're allergic or not. She jabbed her wand at Dumbledore. "Nosium healium!" Dumbledore stopped crying, but his nose started inflating and he was lifted off the ground. "Oh damn it." The healer swore. "That's why I hate homophones."

"Don't worry, Madame Pomfrey!" Hermione cried. "I'll take care of this!" Ron and Harry rolled their eyes. "Moronicus Fallicus!"

Professor Dumbledore fell, screaming, onto Madame Pomfrey. "Oh my," he squeaked. Draco sniggered. "Are you all right, Poppy?" His voice was all squeaky because of the homophonic (no, not homophobic) healing spell and his nose resembled a deflated puffer fish.

"I think you killed her, Professor," Harry commented.

"Really? Well, that's good. She was bugging me about a raise and paid vacations and unions and running water and all that crap. Now I have nothing to worry about." Harry thought it was funny hearing the headmaster squeak like a squirrel. He had a pet squirrel once. Then a cat ate it.

Suddenly, a black vortex of DOOM! opened up and Sirius' ghost fell through, still wearing his speedo.

"AHHHH! MY EYES!" screamed Draco, Ron, and Hermione in unison.

"What are you talking about?" Sirius demanded. "I look hot in this!" His potbelly jiggled in agreement.

"Uh...sure." Dumbledore squeaked.

"What happened to you?" Sirius asked.

"Freak helium accident."

"That's easily amended." He took out his wand. "Freakae accidentae go- awayae!" Nothing happened. "Argh. Stupid ghost wands don't work."

"No. That's not it." Draco sneered. "Well, yes, partially. There's also the fact that "go-awayae" is not correct. Freakae accidentae go-ae awayae!" Draco looked horrified. "I can't believe I just helped DUMBLEDORE! What would my father say?!?! And I sounded like GRANGER!" he spat. He ran to the nearest nightstand. Harry thought he would start banging his head against it. To his surprise (and chagrin), Draco picked it up and threw it at Hermione, who ducked. It flew through Sirius and hit Ron in the head. He fell like...a big heavy falling object.

"Thank you, Draco," Dumbledore said in his usual raspy voice. "For restoring my voice to normal, and knocking Ronald out. For that I award Slytherin one zillion points." There was a loud boom, most likely from the Slytherin hourglass-thingee exploding from the zillion emeralds that were falling into it. Draco looked like he was about to implode with smugness.

"But...but...Professor!" Hermione stammered. "Malfoy's in SLYTHERIN! You're supposed to favor us and award us enough points to win the House Cup every year for no apparent reason!"

"Yes, but anyone that knocks Ronald out with a nightstand deserves to win the Cup." He said airily.

"Ha!" Draco gloated. "See, Potter? I told you you were making friends with the wrong lot."

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry said, perturbed. "But, Professor! You awarded Ron all those points in first year for playing a chess game! Surely you don't hate him!" Harry argued.

"That's because I was drunk during the feast." Dumbledore said, his patience fraying. "Now, Harry, we must go to my office and I have to tell you in an important way what the words Sirius wrote on your forehead mean."

"There're words written on my forehead?"

"Oblivious twit," Draco coughed.

"Yes, Harry. Now, kindly kick- I mean, bring Mr. Weasley along in whatever way possible. Sirius, go fetch Ginny because no quest is complete without a stupid little tag-along. The rest of you, come with me." [insert ominous music here]

* * *

A/N: Woooo! Hints of a plot! I'm on a roll! Again, please R&R, and if it is the worst thing you have ever read, please give me advice on how to make it better. Other than that, I will post another chapter and wait for a few reviews before I decide whether or not to go on. Thanks in advance to any reviewers!


	3. Ch 3: The journey begins!

Five minutes later, Dumbledore was at his desk picking his nose. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco were seated around his desk, trying not to gag. Well, not Ron, as he was blissfully unaware of what his esteemed headmaster was doing.

The spinny-eagle staircase thing spun and Sirius burst in, Ginny in tow. Sirius had put some ghost clothes on, sparing Ginny's innocent eyes. Draco decided he liked the staircase and would have to steal it, along with the phoenix.

"We're here, Dumbledore," Sirius announced.

Dumbledore removed his index finger from his nostril. "I noticed," the headmaster said drily. "Now, everyone, be seated, except Sirius, as you'd fall through the chair, and I will speak to you of your quest."

"Hey Sirius," Harry said. "Do you have my Batman underpants?"

"Nope, sorry," Sirius apologized. "They're in my dresser in Dead World."

"Awww...I REALLY liked those, S-"

"SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!" Dumbledore roared. Outside, a chipmunk fell out of a tree. "It is MY TURN to be special and tell you your little quest thing. So no more interruptions, or face the consequences!"

"What are the consequences?" Draco inquired.

"You will wash my feet."

Everyone became still. Ron snored. "Wake him up," Dumbledore snapped. Ginny poked him with her wand. Nothing happened. She poked harder. "OW!" Ron yelled. "That was my eye!"

"Too bad," said Ginny.

"Gather round, children," Sirius patronized.

"All right," Dumbledore said, glad that people were paying attention to him for once. "Harry, since you haven't noticed, the words on your head, written by Sirius, read 'ur hair makes u a crack fiter!' Sirius was sent here for two reasons; one, to lecture Harry on how to breathe, and two, to tell us about the Threat of Crack. Unfortunately, he FORGOT to do the latter and has been sent back to complete his second task."

"Okay, let's get this over with so I can go back to Dead World and fool around with Narcissa," Sirius said resignedly.

"WHAT?" Draco yelped. "YOU INCESTUOS CRETIN! My mother is your COUSIN! How DARE you?!?! I'd kill you, only it wouldn't really accomplish anything..."

"Poser," Sirius scoffed. "You couldn't kill a louse."

"Watch me," Draco huffed. He aimed his wand at Ginny. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" She crumpled and fell to the floor. Several dark specks fell out of her hair. "See? I killed loads of lice. And a Weasley."

"Oh look," Ron commented. "You killed my sister."

"All right, now I have proof that Malfoy here can kill lice. Medicated shampoo would have worked just as well, but he prefers to be ostentatious," Sirius was getting annoyed. "Anyways, back to my bit of really important information. Voldemort," Ron and Hermione gasped at the scary name. "Has gotten himself a brain and decided that it will be easier to rule the world by becoming a drug lord than to kill all who oppose him. I mean, if he did that, the population of the world would be reduced to one. So, he and his Death Eaters are secretly smuggling crack to every country in the globe and if he isn't stopped, he'll rule the world, and it'll be bad, blah blah blah."

"Wait," Ron said. "If Death Eaters are behind it, why is Malfoy here? Won't he be a spy sell us out?" It was at this moment that Hermione and Harry noticed the peculiarity of Draco being included in an anti-Voldemort discussion.

"Wow, Weasley," Draco said, feigning disappointment. "You've figured out my plan." Ron looked smug. "Of course I'm not going to be a spy, idiot. You think I want to serve an ugly insane snake man? He'd probably kill me for fun. Dying is not high on my list of priorities."

"Oh," Ron said, crestfallen. "Well, then...Sirius! How do you know all this?" It was a pathetic attempt to save his dignity (what dignity?) and everyone knew it.

"I live in the dead world. I have my sources," Sirius said mysteriously.

"Why does my hair make me a crack fighter?" Harry asked.

"Because," Sirius said. "It's dirty and screwed and resembles a chicken roost."

"NOOOOO!" Harry wailed. "It STILL looks like a chicken roost?!?! I've been aiming for the pig sty look!"

"Okay then," Sirius replied, exasperated. "Because it's dirty and screwed and resembles a pig sty."

"All better," Harry said, satisfied.

"Why do baboons have red butts?" Ron asked.

"What's with all these questions?" Sirius roared. "And why does Ron care about the tint of a baboon's back side?"

"Because," Draco informed. "He's an idiot."

"You have a point there," Sirius conceded.

"Righty-ho, then," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "Sirius, you may return to the dead world." The black vortex of DOOM! reappeared and Sirius was sucked back into it. "Here I come, Narcissa!" he called. Draco looked murderous.

"You four," Dumbledore stated importantly, pointing at Draco, Ron, Hermione, and Harry, "need to start making your Crack Fighter costumes."

"...Costumes?" Draco said skeptically.

"Yes, costumes," Dumbledore replied sagely. "Every evil-fighting team needs a name and costume. If Harry here had known that, he would have defeated Voldemort in his first year."

"Why didn't you tell me I needed a costume?" Harry demanded, indignant.

"You never asked. And because you're stupid. Well, better get started then," Dumbledore said cheerfully. "You're leaving tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: I'm sorry about the ending; I had to get the story started so it's really stupid and forced. Plus, this is my first fanfic ever and it would have been better had my FRIEND not abandoned me halfway through the chapter (I split chapter 1 into 3 parts). Grrr...anyways, Please review! Constructive criticism will be appreciated. 


	4. Ch 4: The journey is delayed!

"But we can't go tomorrow, Professor," Hermione complained. "You said yourself that no quest is complete without a stupid little tag-along. Malfoy killed ours; where are we going to find another one?"

"Are you blind, Mudblood? The school's infested with tag-alongs. We can simply close our eyes and randomly pick a student out and they'll be perfect for the position." said the Slytherin helpfully.

"...Hey! He called me a Mudblood!" Hermione really was quite dim. The smart Hermione is really her evil twin.

"A bit slow-witted, aren't we?"

"Too bad, Herm. If your blood's that dirty just go get a blood transfusion," Harry said nonchalantly.

"But," Draco said cheerfully. "We don't need to go pick a random stupid tag- along to go with us. We've got you, Granger."

"Thank you," Hermione said, oblivious of the insult thrown in her face.

"Well, Dumbledore said. "Now that we have that issue settled, you should really start on your costumes. I was thinking maybe a pink and purple polka-dotted spandex suit with a utility shower cap. It is sure to strike fear in the hearts of your adversaries. How's that sound?"

"Ah..." Ron said, edging towards the door. Harmione and Harry followed his lead (shows how dull they are). "We'll be leaving, Professor."

"All right," agreed Dumbledore.

Draco, meanwhile, had slid over towards Fawkes' perch. He grabbed the bird and stuffed it down his shirt. He then attempted to sneak down the stairs, but the phoenix squawked.

Dumbledore's head shot up. "Mister Malfoy? What was that sound?"

Draco's back was turned towards the headmaster. "What? Oh, you mean that squawking noise that wasn't made by your phoenix stuffed down my shirt? It's Weasley's pet goose. He's been looking for it, and I found her in here. Being a VERY GOOD FRIEND of the Weasel's, I'm bringing her to him."

"Really? I had no idea you and Mr. Weasley were on such good terms. For that, I will take back the zillion points I awarded you for knocking him out." Dumbledore said evilly.

"NOOOO!" shouted Draco, his back still turned.

"Why is your back turned to me?" Dumbledore asked.

"It's not. You just have bad eyesight. May I suggest a new pair of glasses?"

"Oh...all right..." Suddenly his voice became urgent. "You are aware of your task, correct? They must all die. All three of them."

"Yes, Headmaster. Now, I must be returning the chicken to Weasel King." With that, he left. After he descended the cool staircase, he used his amazing powers and shrunk it and stuck it in his pocket. He walked whistling to his common room, Fawkes' golden head sticking out of one of his sleeves.

"And here I thought it was a goose. And I can't see...I must be going senile." Dumbledore mused. "Such a nice boy, that Draco, eh, Fawkes?" No reply. "Fawkes? Fawkes? WHERE ARE YOU, FAWKES MY BELOVED?!?!?!?!?!" He ran to his staircase, except it wasn't there anymore. He plummeted down, and fell, laying in a quivering heap. A single feather fell on his back. It (his back) broke.

Thus passed the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry.

* * *

Snape's voice came across the speakers (that appeared just for this scene). "Attention students of Hogwarts. I REGRET to inform you that our Headmaster has passed away. According to my sources, hs back was broken by a...am I reading this right? Are you sure it doesn't say 'fat sumo wrestler'? No? All right...erm...his back was broken by a...feather." 

The school was silent with shock. A feather?

"I'm sure you are all terribly grieved," Snape said with thinly veiled glee, watching the students put up celebratory decorations in the Great Hall. "As I CERTAINLY am." The DJ appeared, dragging his equipment with him. "But we must continue with out daily lives, even in the absence of this great leader. So, I will become Headmaster."

The school went silent with shock again. This time, pandemonium ensued. Students began screaming and running into tables. The Patil twins drowned themselves in the punch. Others jumped out windows. The DJ ran away and hid in a corner.

"NO!" came the heroic voice of Minerva McGonagall. A white spotlight (literally) shone upon her. "I will take the late headmaster's place. He said so in his will." The students began cheering and dancing around wildly. Several continued to run into tables. Severus noted with amusement that Potter and his friends were among them. Then he had a mood swing (he was bipolar).

"Let me see that!" the potions master growled. "This is in your handwriting!" he spat.

"No it's not," McGonagall countered. "You're just jealous because I have power and YOU don't. So there!" She blew a raspberry.

Snape rolled his eyes. "Whatever," She must be PMSing, he thought.

* * *

A/N: Sorry; random randomness stuck in. I swear the next chapter will be better! Please R&R, and flame if you wish. 


	5. Ch 5: Of Running into Tables

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. If I did, I would be fabulously rich right now and not wasting my time writing this.

Oh...erm, I forgot to put disclaimers in my first 4 chapters. Sorry! But just to acknowledge that, so I don't get sued or anything. I'm done now.  
  
**Ch 5: Of Running into Tables  
**  
With a flash, Severus remembered that Minerva was old enough to be his great-grandmother. Using his brilliant powers of deduction, he realized that it could not possibly be PMS. Could it? Maybe she just had issues. That sounded about right.  
  
Minerva was still ranting about why she would make a better Headperson ("I have better fashion sense! I'm more hip! I can do the Moonwalk! I can turn into a CAT!") Severus was getting very sick of her shrill voice in his ear. He kicked her in the shins; she fell and her head hit against the table.  
  
The students, hearing the thunk, turned to see what had happened.  
  
Hannah Abbot ran to the professor's side. "She's still alive!" the Hufflepuff cried. "Quick! Bring her to Madame Pomfrey!" (We all know that Hufflepuffs are sensationally dull). Also, being a Hufflepuff meant that no one listened to her, including her fellow Hufflepuffs. Let's count how many times I say Hufflepuff! Ahem...  
  
Somehow, the Hufflepuff managed to get the unconscious, soon-to-be-dead professor up to the hospital wing. That's when it hit the Hufflepuff that the healer was dead. The Hufflepuff tried vainly to save the ailing teacher. Two minutes later, Minerva McGonagall was a thing of the past.  
  
In great distress, the Hufflepuff cast herself out of the hospital window. Her body plummeted to the ground and was lost in the night. At least, until Fang got to it.  
  
As this was going on, Severus had officially become the Headmaster. He was sitting on a throne and the Creevy brothers were fanning him with abnormally large peacock feathers. Some random unfortunate Ravenclaw was his footstool, and another was feeding him peeled grapes. Severus was seriously considering turning his robes into gold to fit the occasion, but decided against it. Gold was so not his color: it made him look sallow. Well, sallowER.  
  
Draco was observing this all from across the Great Hall, a smirk on his face. Severus caught his eye and gave him a not-so-subtle wink, in which half his face was scrunched up like a prune. "MEET ME HERE TOMORROW MORNING AT 6!" the Headmaster shouted to Draco. Naturally, no one else noticed. Draco smiled inwardly. Step 1 was complete. He walked out of the Hall and headed toward his common room, crashing into a wall in the process.  
  
All this time, the idiotic Trio had not ceased walking into tables. Hermione had a moment of smartness and pointed out that they should start on the costume design. This would have been a good plan, had Harry and Ron been conscious.  
  
With a sigh, Hermione walked into a table once again, and slipped, unconscious, to the floor.

* * *

It was 6 am the next day. Wooooo!  
  
Draco donned his intimidating black cloak and his clunky, shiny, evil- looking black boots and swept down to the Great Hall. His father would be proud. He had paid good money for swoop-down-on-people-while-wearing-out-of- style-boots-and-look-scary lessons. He entered the Great Hall, and saw the new Headmaster standing near a table, looking down at the floor. Three lumps were by his feet, but Draco couldn't make out what they were.  
  
Snape's head shot up when he heard Draco's footsteps. "Ah, Mr. Malfoy," he greeted, with his oily voice and his oily hair and his oily face and...yeah. You get the picture. "Well, you should be off on your QUEST now, shouldn't you?"  
  
"Yes, prof- Headmaster." Draco looked around. "Where're Potty and his dogs?"  
  
Snape kicked the lump by his right foot. "Right here!" he said brightly.  
  
It was then that Draco saw that the lumps were the Boy Who Lived and his chums. He and the Headmaster amused themselves for the next five minutes kicking the Troglodytic Trio.  
  
Finally, Ron stirred. He yawned, stretched and whacked Hermione in the face, giving her a black eye. Hermione yelped in pain, waking Harry, who sat up, hit his head against the table again, and passed out. Severus cleared his throat.  
  
Ron and Hermione looked up, and were scared. You would be too. It is quite frightening when you look up and see a giant nose wearing black robes.  
  
"Hey, Herm," Ron whispered. "Why is there a big hairy nose in place of Snape, wearing Snape's robes?"  
  
"I dunno, Ron," she whispered back. "Maybe Snape has a bad cold and turned into a giant nose like in that cough commercial."  
  
"What's a commercial?"  
  
"Never mind. Let's wake Harry up and sneakily sneak away," Hermione said, her second intelligent thought in two days. This was a first for her. She felt proud.  
  
Draco was listening to their conversation with amusement, Snape with growing fury. However, he refrained himself from doing something he might regret. Wait, he wouldn't regret killing Ron...or Hermione...and especially not Harry... He began to reach for his wand, then thought the better of it. After all, they were needed in The Plan. hint hint wink wink nudge nudge  
  
By now, Ron and Hermione had given up on trying to wake Harry. As they were walking back to their common room (not noticing Draco or Snape, and forgetting completely about The Nose), Draco took a shovelful of Cornish pixie manure and chucked it into Harry's face.  
  
Harry spluttered, and woke up. Snape and Draco doubled over with laughter. Ron and Hermione turned when they heard their friend making odd strangling noises, and rushed to hug him.  
  
"Harry! Oh Harry, you're all right! I was so worried!" cried Ron. Snape looked at Ron uneasily. Could he be...?  
  
A Gryffindor hugfest ensued, resulting in the trio getting covered in manure. But that didn't bother them. They were grinning like loons. Most likely because they were loons.  
  
Snape cleared his throat again.  
  
"Oh, hello professor Snape!" Ron greeted jovially. "I'm glad you reclaimed your body from that scary nose."  
  
Snape resembled a murderous tomato.  
  
Draco cut in. "We need to get started on our mission."  
  
"What mission?" three Gryffindors asked in unison.  
  
"The mission to Tahiti, cretins, to defeat You-Know-Who." Draco responded, rolling his eyes.  
  
"Fear of a name only staples balloon of the low-carb woodchuck in the third person." Hermione said, hoping she would get lucky and say something intelligent. Ha.  
  
Draco looked at her. "I think you hit your head one too many times, Mudblood. Anyways, do you idiots know what mission I'm talking about?"  
  
"Er..." Harry said. He was good at saying 'er.' "I remember something about a costume...HOLY CRAP! I forgot about the costume! Now we'll never defeat Voldemort!"  
  
"Hey! I've got an idea!" Ron said. "Let's wear halter tops and leather minis!" So he IS, Snape thought to himself.  
  
"Why don't we just skip the costume part?" Draco asked.  
  
"No! We can't beat the Dark Lord without a costume!" Ron protested.  
  
"All right. How's this. We wear black cloaks."  
  
"That's brilliant!" Hermione squealed.  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow. How did she score so high on the OWLs?  
  
"And they can have 'Crack Fiters'written across the back and we can wear ski masks!" Harry shouted.  
  
"...Sure Potter. Suit yourself. I'll just wear the cloak."  
  
"Awww, Malfoy, where's your team spirit?" Harry whined.  
  
"Goyle ate that too."

* * *

A/N: Tell me what you think! I didn't spend much time on it so it might not flow too well. And I only proofread it twice, so there might be some errors (spell check really does not work).

Next chapter: They finally set out! But they won't go straight to Tahiti...oh no...::cackle:: And yes, there is a connection between Tahiti and Dead!Tahiti. But I didn't tell you that.


End file.
